Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Black Sheep to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Toasters,
The Selecter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Moon,
The Residents,
Cal Tjader,
Grauzone,
The Black Dice,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rotary Connection,
Crooked Eye,
Stetsasonic,
Slave,
Quadrant,
Joe Finger,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
Echospace,
Pole,
Funkadelic,
The Doors,
Ken Boothe,
Whodini,
Bobby Womack,
Simply Red,
Surgeon,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash,
DNA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Sherman,
Carl Craig,
Fear,
Man Parrish,
The Dead C,
John Holt,
Alice Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Neu!,
R.M.O.,
T. Rex,
Barrington Levy,
Sight & Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Aural Exciters,
Morten Harket,
Terry Callier,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
The Birthday Party,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Flag,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.